


cold chicken salad

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, M/M, Office Sex, Rimming, it's an au but it's an au of a canonical au, tie bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: Laughing, Sam reached his arms above his head in a stretch. “Yeah, so, lunch has arrived.”“Let me just finish this one thing really quick…”“Seriously. Dude. No. Come on do I have to tie you to your chair and force feed you?”Dean pushed away from his desk and focused on Sam. “… no.”“You want me to tie you to your chair? Oh god. Have you ever thought about having sex in the office?”“Oh my god Sam, I have not.”“You totally have.”





	cold chicken salad

Sam’s nose was so cold it felt like it was going to fall off, while the rest of him was getting too warm beneath a bundled scarf and layers of hoodies and an old canvas jacket. He watched the little floor lights pinging up, up in the elevator. With his bag of lunch, he shouldered through the front glass office door, pulled his scarf down, made his way to Dean’s corner office, stomping snow off his boots as he went.

“Dude, it’s Christmas, why are you working on Christmas?” was his greeting.

Dean didn’t even look up from his paper strewn desk when he answered, “Hello to you too.”

Sam set his bag on the floor, kicked his wet mucky shoes off, slipped out of his jackets and hung them up on the rack next to the door.

“Well. Lunch is delivered.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Huffing, he sat down in the chair across the wide desk from Dean. “That sounded so enthusiastic.”

Dean gave him a non-commital grunt, and Sam patiently waited out whatever task was so important Dean was hyper-focused on it. Leaning forward, he pulled at one of the silver balls on the little do-dad cradle and watched the device swing back and forth. Outside past the ceiling to floor windows, the city-view was obscured by the big white snowflakes gently falling.

Sam had somewhere to be in a few hours - his mom’s house a long train ride out of the city, where he was definitely going to give himself a food coma and bask in her attention. But Dean, god Sam wasn’t even sure if Dean had anyone to spend the holiday with. He’d probably just, Skype with his family in South Dakota or something. He’d probably do it from the office, too.

Dean took a deep breath and stopped typing, sitting back and looking at Sam.

“Seriously, thanks for bringing lunch. I have so much to catch up on, it’s prime time when there’s no one else in the office to distract me.”

“You work too much.”

“I’m on the fast track to upper management, Mr. IT.”

“Yeah yeah.”

“You could do more if you tried.”

Sam shrugged, “I like my low responsibility work. It pays the bills, I’m good. I’d have more time to spend with my boyfriend, if like, he wasn’t married to his job first. I feel like a sleezy side ho.”

“Oh my god, Sam shut up.”

Laughing, Sam reached his arms above his head in a stretch. “Yeah, so, lunch has arrived.”

“Let me just finish this one thing really quick…”

“Seriously. Dude. No. Come on do I have to tie you to your chair and force feed you?”

Dean pushed away from his desk and focused on Sam. “… no.”

“You want me to tie you to your chair? Oh god. Have you ever thought about having sex in the office?”

“Oh my god Sam, I have not.”

“You totally have.”

“That’s gross. Now where’s this lunch I’ve been hearing so much about, huh?”

Sam left the food behind him by the door, and circled the desk to spin Dean around in his chair, brace hands on the back of it and loom over his boyfriend. “You. Totally. Have.”

“Don’t you have to catch a train out of town to your mom’s house or something?”

“I got a few hours.”

Dean hummed, leaning back in his chair as he licked his lips, and Sam really did not care about the grilled chicken salad that he’d brought. Reaching down, he unknotted Dean’s tie and slid it from around his neck, Dean’s hands settling warm on Sam’s hips, fingertips pushing up under his shirt.

“So, I get working on the holidays,” Sam said, popping the first few buttons of Dean’s shirt, “But why are you wearing a suit?”

Dean’s face broke from tease to holding back on a laugh at the change of topic. “Force of habit, I guess.”

“You know, you could save a lot by giving up the lease on your apartment and just moving in here.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“Hmm.”

Dean’s suit jacket was hanging from the rack by the office door. Sam guessed that counted as casual enough for him. Stepping around the chair, Sam settled his hands on Dean’s shoulder, dragged them down his arms, muscles toned under his shirt, and tugged Dean’s wrists behind his back.

“Are you seriously -“

“Oh yeah.”

Folding the silk cornflower yellow and blue diamond dotted tie on itself to meet end to end, Sam wrapped it around and passed the ends through the middle like a basic lark’s knot, then wrapped the tails a few more times around Dean’s wrists and left it tied flimsy. Circling back around, he spun Dean’s chair to face the view and sunk to his knees between Dean’s parting thighs.

“I don’t even know how I got a boyfriend like you,” Dean murmured as Sam unbuttoned his pants and stroked his dick to hardness.

Smiling full-dimple force up at him, Sam said, “Because rich upper-management makes good sugar daddies,” before swallowing his cock.

It wasn’t true, well, not really. Dean didn’t pay his rent or buy him extravagant gifts. He did pay for all their dates, but Dean was the one with fancy taste that wanted to go to the opera. And Sam might have an increasingly impressive collection of lingerie and sex toys from Dean, but hey, those were things they both enjoyed.

The chair creaked as Dean shifted, hips pushing up, and Sam braced a hand on his hip to push him back down. Hollowing out his mouth and dragging up slow, slow, he curled his tongue around Dean’s cock and used his free hand to tug the slacks down lower, pull Dean’s balls out to play with. He was so soft, hair impeccably close trimmed and skin smooth, unblemished expect for the freckles smattered across his body. Dean always smelled so fucking good, everywhere, Sam could shove his nose in Dean’s ass and it’d smell like fancy soaps and clean skin. Maybe he should do that, pull Dean’s slacks down farther and wedge up tight between his legs and make him come with Sam’s tongue up his ass.

Dean groaned and his legs juddered, unsure, like he was going to lift them over Sam’s shoulders but the chair kept moving. Spit dripping messy and hair falling in his eyes, Sam pulled off Dean’s cock and got both hands on his pants, sliding them to Dean’s knees. Ducking down to pop back up on the other side of Dean’s pants, Sam told him, “Hold on.”

“To what?”

Hands spread across the backs of Dean’s thighs high up, Sam hefted him and shouldered under Dean, bringing him to the edge of the chair and tipping his hips up higher as Dean leaned back. Knee-walking the foot to the desk, wedging the stupid wheely-chair between it and Sam, he shoved his face down between Dean’s legs.

The sounds Dean made pitched higher, thighs clenching around Sam’s head, the muscles of his hole seizing as Sam tongued around it. Curling one long arm around Dean’s leg, Sam got an awkward hold on his erection and palmed at the head while he ate Dean out.

Ha, looks like he was having salad for lunch after all.

Rubbing his nose against the taint, Sam wedged his way closer and pursed his lips around Dean’s hole, sucking and pushing his tongue into a point, trying to wriggle his way in. Hot and huffing through his nose for air, Sam continued determinedly, hunched between Dean’s legs and dripping spit on the nice leather chair, Dean whining as he jerked his hips trying to grind on Sam’s face.

Sam could feel Dean’s thighs trembling, could feel his body wind tenser and his cock twitching when he was almost there, refused to stop even though he was getting a little dizzy and his jaw ached. He pushed harder, tongue breaching just inside the soft tight ring and he felt Dean spilling hot all over his hand.

Getting himself disentangled from under Dean was harder than he expected.

Sam leaned back first, without thinking that Dean’s pants were still on his legs somewhere behind Sam’s head. The chair knocked forward, Sam fell on his ass, finally figured out that he needed to duck under. Dean was dazed, head tipped up staring at the ceiling, his arms still pulled behind the back of the chair.

“Oh, shit.” Sam pushed up, swaying as blood rushed back into his head. “Shit, did I pin your arms against the desk?”

Dean, pants around his ankles, blinked and turned his head, trying to follow Sam as he got Dean untied.

“Nah. Nah, it’s fine. I’m good. I am so good.”

The tie had gotten pulled tighter and was pretty well cinched around Dean’s wrists. Sam worked it off, unbuttoned the cuffs of Dean’s shirt and rubbed his wrists, moving in gentle squeezes up his arm.

“Fuck. That was great.”

Spinning Dean back around to face the desk, Sam leaned over him and pressed a kiss to his too pretty lips. “Good.”

“Hey, what can I do for you?”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Sam groaned. “I uh, really do need to catch a train. And I’m starving.”

“Are you staying for lunch?”

“Yeah, I got something for both of us,” Sam moved around the desk, picked up his bag from by the door.

“Man, it’s probably cold by now.”

“Dude, it’s salad. It starts cold.”

“You didn’t get grilled chicken on it?”

“Of course I got grilled chicken on it.”

“But, then the chicken’s cold.”

Dean pouted, swiping jizz off his shirt with a tissue and pulling his pants back up.

“Oh my god just eat your cold chicken salad.”

“I kinda wanna suck you off more.”

“You know what, I can eat my salad on the train.”


End file.
